by Thomas Otway
Well, what art Thou?
Marth.
Am I a Stranger to thee?
Martha’s my name, the Syrian Prophetess,
That us’d to wait upon thee with good Fortune;
Till banish’d out of Rome for serving Thee.
I’ve ever since inhabited these Woods,
And search’d the deepest Arts of wise Foreknowledge.
Mar. sen.
I know thee now most well. When thou wert gone,
All my good Fortune left me. My lov’d Vulturs,
That us’d to hover o’re my happy Head,
And promise Honour in the day of Battel,
Have since bin seen no more. Ev’n Birds of prey
Forsake unhappy Marius: Men of prey
Pursue him still. Hast thou no Hopes in store?
Marth.
A hundred Spirits wait upon my will,
To bring me Tidings, from th’ Earth’s farthest Corners,
Of all that happens out in States and Councils.
I tell thee therefore, Rome is once more thine.
The Consuls have had Blows, and Cinna’s beaten,
Who with his Army comes to find thee out,
To lead him back with Terrour to that City.
Mar. sen.
Speak on.
Marth.
Nay, e’re thou think’st it he will be with thee.
But let thy Sons and these fair Nymphs retire,
Whilst I relieve thy wearied Eyes with Sleep,
And chear thee in a Dream with promis’d Fate.
Mar. Jun.
Come, my Lavinia, Granius, wee’ll withdraw
To some cool Shade, and wonder at our Fortune.
[Ex.
Martha waves her Wand.... [A Dance.
Mar. sen.
O Rest, thou Stranger to my Senses, welcome.
Enter Servant and a Russian.
Serv.
Ten Attick Talents shall be thy Reward,
Sextilius gives ’em thee. Dispatch him safely.
Ruff.
Fear not, he never wakes agen.
Mar. sen.
No more,
I ‘ll hear no more. Metellus live? no, no;
He dies, he dies. So bear him to the Tiber,
And plunge him to the bottom. Hah Antonius!
Where are my Guards? dispatch that talking Knave,
That when he should be doing publick Service,
Consumes his time in Speeches to the Rabble,
And sows Sedition in a City. Down,
Down with Pompeius too, that call’d me Traitour.
Hah! art thou there? welcome once more, old Marius,
To Rome’s Tribunall.
Ruff.
Now’s the time.
Mar. sen.
Stand off.
Secure that Gaul.... Dar’st thou kill Caius Marius?
[Wakes.
Hah! speak? what art thou?
Ruff.
By Sextilius hired
I hither came to take your Life, Spare mine,
And I’ll for ever serve you at your feet.
Mar. sen.
What barb’rous Slaves are these, that envy me
The open Air; set Prices on my Head,
As they would doe on Wolves that slay their Flock!
Enter Sulpitius. [Trumpets.
Trumpets! Sulpitius, where hast thou bin wand’ring
Since the late Storm that drove us from each other?
Sulpit.
Why, doing Mischief up and down the City,
Picking up discontented Fools, belying
The Senatours and Government, destroying
Faith amongst honest men, and praising Knaves.
Mar. sen.
Oh, but where’s Cinna?
Sulpit.
Ready to salute you.....
Enter Cinna attended with Lictors and Guards.
Cinn.
Romans, once more behold your Consul; soe,
Is that a Fortune fit for Caius Marius?
Advance your Axes and your Rods before him,
And give him all the Customs of his Honour.
Mar. sen.
Away: such Pomp becomes not wretched Marius.
Here let me pay Obedience to my Consul.
Lead me, great Cinna, where thy Foes have wrong’d thee,
And see how thy old Souldier will obey.
Cinn.
O Marius, be our Hearts united ever,
To carry Desolation into Rome,
And waste that Den of Monsters to the Earth.
Mar. sen.
Shall we?
Cinn.
We’ll do’t. That godly Soothsaying Fool,
That sacrificing Dolt, that Sot Octavius,
When we were chosen Consuls in the Forum,
Disown’d me for his Collegue; said, the Gods
Had told him I design’d Tyrannick pow’r;
Provok’d the Citizens, who took up Arms,
And drove me forth the Gates.
Mar. sen.
Excellent Mischief!
What’s to be done?
Cinn.
No sooner was I gone,
But a large part of that great City follow’d me.
There’s not an honest Spirit left in Rome,
That does not own my Cause, and wish for Marius.
Mar. sen.
Bring me my Horse, my Armour, and the Laurel
With which, when I’d o’recome three barb’rous Nations,
I enter’d crown’d with Triumph into Rome.
I go to free her now from greater Mischiefs.
Enter Marius junior and Granius.
O my young Warriour!
Mar. Jun.
Curst be the Light,
And ever curst be all these Regions round us.
Lavinia’s lost, born back with force to Rome,
By Ruffians headed by her Father’s Kinsmen;
And like a Coward too I live, yet saw it.
[Exit.
Mar. sen.
Oh Marius! Marius! let not ‘Plaints come from thee,
Nor cloud the joy that’s breaking on thy Father.
If she be back in Rome, Lavinia’s thine.
To morrow’s Dawn restores her to thy Arms.
For that fair Mistriss Fortune, which has cost
So dear, for which such Hardships I have past,
Is coy no more, but crowns my Hopes at last.
I long t’ embrace her, nay, ’tis Death to stay.
I’m mad as promis’d Bridegrooms, born away
With thoughts of nothing but the joyfull day.
[Exeunt.
SCENE METELLUS HOUSE.
Enter Metellus, Lavinia, Priest of Hymen.
Lavin.
NAY, you have catcht me; you may kill me too:
But with my Cries I’ll rend the Echoing Heav’ns,
Till all the Gods are Witness how you use me.
Metell.
What? like a Vagrant fly thy Father’s House?
And follow fulsomely an exll’d Slave,
Disdain’d by all the World? But abject Thou,
Resolve to go, or bound be sent to Sylla,
With as much Scorn as thou hast done me Shame.
Lavin.
Do, bind me, kill me, rack these Lims: I’ll bear it.
But, Sir, consider still I am your Daughter;
And one hour’s Converse with this Holy man
May teach me to repent, and shew Obedience.
Metell.
Think not t’ evade me by protracting time:
For if thou dost not, may the Gods forsake me,
As I will Thee, if thou escape my Fury....
[Ex. Metell.
Lavin.
Oh! bid me leap (rather then go to Sylla)
From off the Battlements of any Tow’r,
Or walk in Thievish ways, or bid me lurk
Where Serpents are: chain me with roaring Bears;
Or hide me nightly in a Charnell-house
O’re-cover’d quite with Dead mens rattling Bones,
With reeky Shanks, and yellow chapless Sculls:
Or bid me go into a new-made Grave,
And hide me with a Dead man in his Shrowd:
Things that to hear but told have made me tremble:
And I’ll go through it without fear or doubting,
To keep my Vows unspotted to my Love. —
Priest.
Take here this Vial then, and in this moment
Drink it, when straight through all thy Veins shall run
A cold and drowzy Humour more then Sleep:
And in Death’s borrow’d likeness shalt thou lie
Two Summer-days, then wake as from a Slumber.
Till Marius by my Letters know what’s past,
And come by stealth to Rome. —
Lavin.
Give me; Oh! give me: tell me not of Fears.
Priest.
Farewell: be bold and prosp’rous.
[Exit.
Lavin.
Oh! farewell.....
Heav’n knows if ever we shall meet agen.
I have a faint cold Fear thrills through my Veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of Life.
I’ll call him back agen to comfort me.
Stay, Holy man. But what should he doe here?
My dismall Scene ’tis fit I act alone.
What if this Mixture do not work at all?
Shall I to morrow then be sent to Sylla?
No, no... this shall forbid it; ly thou there.....
Lays down the Dagger.
Or how, if, when I’m laid into the Tomb,
I wake before the time that Marius come
To my Relief? There, there’s a fearfull Point.
Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault,
Where for these many hundred years the Bones
Of all my bury’d Ancestours are packt?
Where, as they say, Ghosts at some hours resort,
With Mandrakes shreeks torn from the Earth’s dark Womb,
That living Mortals hearing them run mad?
Or if I wake, shall I not be distracted,
Inviron’d round with all these hideous Fears,
And madly play with my Fore-fathers Joints;
Then in this Rage with some great Kinsman’s Bones,
As with a Club, dash out my desp’rate Brains?
What? Sylla? get thee gone, thou meager Lover:
My Sense abhors thee. Do n’t disturb my Draught;
’Tis to my Lord.
[Drinks.]
Oh Marius! Marius! Marius!
[Exit.
The end of the Fourth ACT.
ACT V.
SCENE CINNA’S CAMP BEFORE THE WALLS OF ROME.
[Trumpets sound a General.
Enter Cinna, Marius senior, and Sulpitius, Granius, two Embassadors, Guards.
Cinn.
EMBASSADOURS from Rome? How many Slaves;
Traitours, and Tyrants, Villains was I call’d
But yesterday? yet now their Consul Cinna.
Oh! what an excellent Master is an Army,
To teach Rebellious Cities Manners! Say,
My Friend and Collegue Marius, shall we hear ’em?
Mar. sen.
Whom?
Cinn.
The Embassadours.
Mar. sen.
From whence?
Cinn.
From Rome.
Mar. sen.
My loving Countrymen? they must be heard,
Or Sylla will be angry.
Cinn.
In what state
And Pageantry the solid Lumps move on?
And though they come to beg, will be attended
With their ill-order’d Pomp and awkward Pride.
Who are ye? and from whence?
1. Emb.
From wretched Rome.
To thee, most mighty Cinna, and to thee.
Most dread Lord Marius, in her name we bow.
Cinn.
What’s your Demand?
1. Emb.
Hear but our humble Prayers,
And all Demands be made by God-like Cinna.
Whither, oh! whither will your Rage pursue us?
Must all the Fortunes and the Lives of Rome
Suffer for one Miscarriage of her Masters?
Your sorrowfull afflicted Mother Rome,
In whose kind Bosome you were nurst and bred,
Stretches her trembling Arms t’ implore your Pity.
Fold up your dreadfull Ensigns, and lay by
Your warlike Terrours, that affright her Matrons,
And come to her e’re Sorrows quite o’rewhelm her.
But come like Sons that bring their Parents Joy:
Enter her Gates with Dove-like Peace before ye,
And let no bloudy Slaughter stain her Streets.
Cinn.
Thus ’tis you think to heal up smarting Honour,
By pouring flatt’ring Balm into the Wound,
Which for a time may make it whole and fair,
Till the false Medicine be at last discover’d,
And then it ranckles to a Sore again.
Take this my Answer: I will enter Rome;
But for my Force, I’ll keep it still my own,
Nor part with Pow’r to give it to my Foes.
Mar. sen.
Sulpitius, see, what abject Slaves are these?
Such base Deformities a long Robe hides.
Sulpit.
I cannot but laugh to think on’t.
Mar. sen.
What?
Sulpit.
How these politick Noddles, that look so grave upon the matter in the Senate-house, will laugh and grin at one another when they are set a sunning upon the Capitol.
2. Emb.
May we return with joy into our City,
Proclaiming Peace agreed with Heav’n and You?
Cinn.
Go, tell ’em we expect due Homage paid,
Of every Senatour expect Acknowledgment,
Mighty Rewards, and Offices of Honour.
1. Emb.
But on that Brow there still appears a Cloud,
That never rose without a following Storm.
Mar. sen.
Alas! for me, a simple Banisht man,
Driv’n from my Country by the right of Law,
And justly punisht as my ills deserv’d,
Think not of me: whate’re are his Resolves,
I shall obey.
Both Emb.
May all the Gods reward you....
[Ex. Embass. and Attendants.
Cinn.
Now, Marius.
Mar. sen.
Now, my Cinna.
Cinn.
Are not we
True-born of Rome, true Sons of such a Mother?
How I adore thy Temper?
Mar. sen.
Those two Knaves,
Those whining, fawning, humble, pliant Villains,
Would cut thy Throat or mine for half a Drachma.
Cinn.
Let’s not delay a moment.
Mar. sen.
Oh! let’s fly,
Enter this cursed City; nay, with Smiles too,
But false as the adulterate Promises
Of Favourites in pow’r, when poor men court ’em.
Cinn.
They always hated me, because a Souldier.
Mar. sen.
Base Natures ever grudge at things above ’em,
And hate a Pow’r they are too much oblig’d to.
When Fears are on them, then their kindest Wishes
And best Rewards attend the gallant Warriour:
But Dangers vanisht, infamous Neglect,
Ill Usage and Reproach are all his portion;
Or at the best he’s wedded to hard Wants,
Robb’d of that little Hire he toil�
�d and bled for.
Sulpit.
I ‘d rather turn a bold true-hearted Rogue,
Live upon Prey, and hang for’t with my Fellows,
Then, when my Honour and my Country’s Cause
Call’d me to Dangers, be so basely branded.
Mar. sen.
E’re we this City enter then, let’s swear
Not to destroy one honest Roman living.
Sulpit.
Nor one chast Matron.
Cinn.
Nor a faithfull Friend,
Nor true-born Heir, nor Senatour that’s wise.
Mar. sen.
But Knaves and Villains, Whores and base born Brats,
And th’ endless swarms of Fools grown up in years,
Be Slaughter’s Game, till we dispeople Rome.
Cinn.
Draw out our Guards, and let the Trumpets sound,
Mar. sen.
Till all things tell ’em Marius is at hand.
O Sylla, if at Capua thou shalt hear
How Fortune deals with me, fall on thy Knees,
And make the Gods thy Friends to keep thee from me.
Sulpitius, as along the Streets we move
With solemn pace and meditating Mischiefs,
Whom-e’re I smile on lot thy Sword go through.
Oh! can the Matrons and the Virgins Cries,
The Screams of dying Infants, and the Groans
Of murther’d men be Musick to appease me?
Sure Death’s not far from such a desp’rate Cure.
Be’t with me rather (Gods,) as Storms let loose,
That rive the Trunks of tallest Cedars down,
And tear from Tops the loaded pregnant Vine,
And kill the tender Flow’rs but yet half blown.
For having no more Fury left in store,
Heav’ns face grows clear, the Storm is heard no more,
And Nature smiles as gally as before.....
[Exeunt.
SCENE METELLUS HOUSE.
Enter Metellus.
Metell.
A Peace with Marius? O most base Submission!
That over-ruling Fears should weigh up Reason!
Was not the City ours, and Sylla too
At Capua, almost in a Trumpet’s call?
And to submit! Could I but once have fought for’t,
I might have met this Marius in Arms,
And bin reveng’d for all the Mischiefs done me.
Nurse.
Enter Nurse.
Nurse.
Here, an’t shall please you.
Metell.
Go wake Lavinia. Tell her, she must hence
For Capua this Morning: for the Truce
Favours her Journy, and secures her Passage.
[Exit.
Scene draws, and discovers Lavinia on a Couch.
Nurse.
Wake her? Poor Titmouse! it will be as peevish,
I’ll warrant you, and rub its nye’s, and so frown now.
Well: Mistriss! why, Lavinia! fast, I warrant her.
Why, Lamb! why, Lady! Fy, you Slugg-a-bed.
What, not a word? You take your penny worth now,
